


Unexpected Pleasures

by Weasy



Series: The Long Fight [2]
Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Community: iwry_marathon, F/M, Human Angel (BtVS), PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-20
Updated: 2011-11-20
Packaged: 2018-11-08 05:55:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11075421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Weasy/pseuds/Weasy
Summary: Many years Post-Alt!IWRY, the unexpected side of human sex. PWP Written for the 2011 IWRY Marathon





	Unexpected Pleasures

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you Kairos for the excellent beta! Slightly re-edited before reposting here. The first PWP I ever wrote!

The denim jacket fell from around her shoulders to reveal the gauzy blue fabric hidden underneath, tempting glances of barely visible skin flittered past my vision as she padded silently around the room. Every so often my half-closed eyes caught her stealing a glance in my direction and suppressing the deep smile that fought to reach her lips. Playing dead was a game we’d started years ago, when my humanity was new and we were still attempting to hide the news from the supernatural world. I lay still, controlling my breathing at light shallow silent breaths. Jeans slipped down from her hips, revealing a flash of pink lace and creamy thigh. She glanced at me again, watching the flicker of my eyelids.

“Busted.” She smiled, shedding her top and crawling into our bed in her panties and bra.

I faux yawned and stretched out to pull her into my grasp, only mildly annoyed at how quickly she’d spotted my ploy. When did you arrive? I wasn’t expecting you today.”

Lips pressed to mine, soft but demanding, while one hand started fiddling absently with the buttons on my shirt.

“Not long... how come you’re dressed still? I didn’t just miss your other girlfriend did I?” She peered over my shoulder in a show of fake vigilance.

I smoothed her blonde hair away from her face, letting myself drink in the sight of her. Her casual presence in my life was still a blessing to me, scarcely believable despite the years of normality. “Just a long day. Wesley found some good spells in the last batch of translation work.”

“Hmm.” Her fingers traced the top line of tattoos that traced along my collar bone. The medley of spells that enhanced my meager human healing skills and boosted my agility were a constant worry to her, but vital to keep me alive in the supernatural investigations industry.

“Very clear instructions I promise.”

“As long as there’s no more turning into a cat incidents.”

My fingers brushed down over her cheek and past the column of her neck, and she held still for a moment while I checked her pulse. It’s foolish, but after so long of being able to hear the steady staccato of her heart muscles, to smell her presence, her mood and arousal, long before I could see her, she humours my addiction to monitoring her heart rate.

I pouted. “You said cat-me was cute.”

For a while - when my pulse was still new and exciting – it was a mutual pleasure to curl up together and track the movements of each other’s pulsating blood. My vampirism might be long gone, but her blood had always sung to me, and the human obsession made its own kind of sense.

She nodded agreeably. “Cute? Yes. Sexy? No.”

Somehow those first few buttons of my shirt had come undone, and Buffy leaned closer to kiss the first tattoo, the one that marked the first protection spell I wove into my skin, the way she always did. “Stop trying to distract me,” I breathed, letting my body’s reaction to her touch ripple through me. “You still haven’t told me why you’re here... I thought you had dinner with Robin?”

She nodded, a sneaky smile playing at her lips.

“What?”

She pursed her lips and shook her head, teasing the rest of my shirt open and letting her hands dip under the waistband of my pants.

I groaned and tried to focus on the conversation. “Tell me.”

Her fingers dipped lower, brushing through the hair that ran downwards from my naval. “Nope,” she teased, twisting to pop the button – I caught her hand and rolled us over, holding her wrists by the side of her head as she grinned up at me cheekily.

I stole a kiss and she wriggled delightfully underneath me, her legs looping around my hips and drawing me closer as her hot breath puffed against my lips. “You’re such a tease,” I said.

She shook her head. “I think you’ll find it’s not teasing if we do have sex.” She wriggled her wrists and I let go so she could wrap her fingers in my hair and pull me back for another soul-wrenching butterfly kiss. “Eventually have sex,” she clarified.

I pulled away, stretching my arms out so I could survey the mess of blonde hair and totally unrepentant arousal. “I see.” I pretended to ponder the situation and she impatiently tugged at the sleeve of the unbuttoned shirt I was wearing. Thighs closed tighter around my waist until her panties brushed tantalisingly against the fly of my pants. “And sex is supposed to distract me?”

“Absolutely.”

“On the other hand.” I held my weight on one arm so the other could float just almost touching the softness of her skin down her side and brush tantalisingly close to the curve of her breasts. “It could be an excellent opportunity to procure some information from a reluctant source via the medium of untold orgasms.”

She pulled a face. “You spend too much with Wesley.” A blush crept up her skin. “Not in an orgasm way!”

“I got that.”

“Besides, I’m extremely good at keeping secrets, mere orgasms can’t steal them from me. Even mind-blowing ones.”

I shot her a wicked grin of my own. “Really?”

I dived down to catch her lips in a kiss. Disregarding the soft touches of earlier I poured the last few days of raging lust and missing my girl into the single point of contact. Impatiently she wrapped her fingers into the short hairs at the back of my neck and held me closer, nipping at the sensitive skin of my bottom lip before smoothing it over with soft kisses. She pulled away slightly and hazel eyes met mine. “Really.” She confirmed.

I shuffled lower pulling my hips away from hers so that she had to loosen her grip with her legs and I could reach her neck with my lips. Stroking the dip of her clavicle with my lips, I felt the blood rush to the surface under my lips, before drawing my tongue and licking a line from the curve of her collar bone to behind her ear. She sighed beneath me, arching her back and throwing her head back, so her breasts pressed into my chest and I had to quickly count to five or lose all semblance of control. A moment later I had found my scar. The shiny raised skin of my bite still there after years, despite her Slayer healing. The spot is reverential for me, and I gave it a kiss before moving away to sample the flesh along her collarbone in a series of soft licks and kisses. She smelled of sunshine and coconut moisturiser, and memories of her slipping into the mansion during the day flooded my senses.

When I reached the strap of her bra I pushed it aside lightly, trying not to hurry to the soft swell of the breasts hidden under the skimpy cloth. The pale pink lace tickled my senses as I followed the path of the strap down to the edge of the fabric below and skirted along the edge. Another moan filled my ears and as I snuck a look upwards I saw impatient hands shoving me gently away and reaching around to quickly divest herself of the scrap of material before it got ripped (a regular occurrence between us). As she fell back against the bed her raised nipples brushed against the bare skin of my tattoo’d chest and I suddenly felt horribly over dressed.

In silent agreement, her fingers ran across my skin, pushing the shirt away from my shoulders and down my arms so I had to sit up again and hastily pull the shirt from my back and onto the floor. Quick hands were working at my fly, undoing the button and yanking at the zip eagerly. For the second time, I caught her fingers and shook my head gently, remembering my promise to find out the truth about her unexpected visit.

Kneeling between her thighs I tried to memorise the sight of her propped up on her elbows in front of me. Totally unabashed at her nudity, her darkened eyes watched me as I drunk in the open trusting face, her smooth rolling skin, a few nicks and bruises from her latest battles fading to nothing already, the dark blush of her areola and the rise and fall of her chest as her pulse raced in anticipation. Sliding towards her I met her lips again, more gently than before, and guided her down onto her back, before tracing an interrupted path from her jaw down to one succulent nipple. Nuzzling the soft skin, I couldn’t help but dart my tongue across the ultra sensitive flesh and listen to her breath hitch in response. Hands found my hair again, holding me closer as I took the tender point between my lips and sucked gently until she cried out. Her body hummed against mine, sweat building in the valley between us as my fingers found her other nipple and gently twisted and teased. Moving away I switched from one breast to the other,mockingly kissing in tighter and tighter circles around the tip of her other breast as she ummed and ahhed, eyes closed and head thrust back into the pillows, before repeating my earlier treatment. Her hands grabbed fistfuls of my hair and tugged at it with every suck of my tongue and lips.

Maybe she’s not the only tease.

Eventually my own arousal started to get the better of me. I could feel my cock straining painfully hard against my pants, already wet with pre-cum and anticipation.

Abandoning her breasts I moved down her body, following the hollow space of her sternum down towards the soft rise of her belly and further south. Instinctively her legs shuffled wider apart and I breathed in the heat of her before pressing my lips against the raised pattern of her panties, then again against the ticklish skin of her inner thigh. A sigh escaped from gritted teeth, and the sheets pulled around us. Peeking up I saw her fists knitting into the cotton cloths as she strained to stay still. Too distracted to wait anymore, I used a tiny piece of my magically enhanced strength to rip the fabric away with one hand and hold her legs open with the other. My tongue lapped quickly along her centre, finding her most erogenous zones and sucking them between my teeth to a soundtrack of delighted groans and sighs. She grabbed at my hair again, fists curled in the spikes and wrenching it painfully with each lick and suck. Using both hands, I pinned her legs further down as she bucked and strained against me, torn between running away and keeping control and letting go to the pleasure rolling between her. One last carefully placed scrape of her clit with my teeth and the promised orgasm rocked through her, knocking me away from her as she spasmed against the sheets, a pillow shoved in her face as she tried to muffle her screams.

Totally unable to bear the strain any longer I moved away, shucking off my pants and boxers before crawling back between her sweat sheened thighs and propping up her hips.

“...wait.”

I paused, trying to remember how to speak.

“You need a condom.”

Condoms. Right. I ran one hand through my hair, hormone crazed and confused. “I thought we were all okay on that front?” I managed to mumble. A quick vision of suppressed memories of STI clinics and horrifyingly massive needles to check the Powers That Be hadn’t returned me to a syphilis ridden body flashed through my mind.

She pulled the pillow away from her face, sitting up a little and blinking as her dilated pupils adjusted back to the light. “Not that – when I saw Robin today...”

My heart dropped.

She saw my face and laughed as she brushed bed hair from her face. “No, not that, don’t be silly Angel – you know it’s only ever you.” Ego restored, I nodded at Buffy to go on. “Angel, Robin is the son of a Slayer. Her name was Nikki.”

I remembered Nikki, not from my past, but from Spike’s. Her death was a source of huge pride for him, though judging by Buffy’s happy smile, she hadn’t discovered that fact yet.

The pertinent facts suddenly clicked into place.

“Slayers can have children?” I echoed blankly, brain scrambling to find the correct response.

She smiled gently. “Apparently so. So you might want to suit up unless you want lots of little baby Angels running around the hotel. I guess we’ve been lucky so far and-“

I crawled up the bed and pressed my lips to hers. “Stop talking Buffy.”

She smiled wryly,that little quarter smile she gets when she isn’t sure what I’m thinking. “Sorry.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“I quite like the idea of mini-Angels.” Her mouth fell open in shock. “But maybe not now,” I hurriedly finished.

She nodded vigorously, relief settling over her features. “Maybe later?”

“Later would be nice,” I agreed. “So...” I glanced down at my raging erection pressing against her belly, “have you got any protection?”

Twenty minutes and a very speedy run to the 24 hour market and we were back naked and tumbling into bed together. Everything was a mash of limbs, of teeth and lips that kissed whatever bit of skin they could find first and scoured relentlessly for sensitive skin and new places to lick and suck and elicit moans. Buffy rolled us over, her superior strength pinning me down easily as she ripped open the Trojan packet and carefully secured the rubber over my cock. It felt strange, soft and damp but not warm, so that the heat that seared me when she lowered her hips over mine and guided me inside her felt scalding in comparison. I rose to meet her, and we clutched together in the centre of the bed, surrounded by abandoned clothes and bedding, kissing her neck and breasts as she rose and fell in my lap, lost in the world of her own pleasure. Fingers gripped my back, nails digging into the skin and ripping the soft flesh as I grabbed at her hips and sped up the pace, feeling sweat crawl across my skin as the knot of pleasure built in my belly. My lips found the scar and pressed down at the sensitive point so she cried out in pleasure again as I let my own orgasm go, shuddering against her with each roll of bone deep sensation through my body.

Eventually we collapsed back, panting and mutually exhausted, Buffy curled against my side, her head leaning against my shoulder and my fingers working their way loosely through her sex tangled hair.

...if you should ever buy prophylactics from an all night market in a dodgy part of the city, by the way, I highly recommend you check their best before dates. Apparently 2 years out impacts their effectiveness somewhat...

**The End**


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